


It feels nice

by AvaSparks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Insecurity, Isolation, Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Service Dogs, socially awkward Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 20:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10368555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaSparks/pseuds/AvaSparks
Summary: Bucky’s been going through the motions ever since he got back from his last tour, missing one arm. Then he meets a girl while walking his service-dog Ziva at an ungodly hour. She might be the breath of fresh air he doesn’t know he’s been missing.





	

There’s something -everything- so calming about being outside before the crack of dawn; sure, it’s because Bucky has trouble sleeping and wakes up at four in the morning and is unable to go back to sleep, but, still. It’s like the world is his own for a while. A short while, maybe an hour before the first early birds show their faces, but a while at least. Usually long enough for him to clear his head after another short night of sleep, maybe after being awoken by a nightmare.

Having a reason to go outside, is even better, gives him a sense of purpose; even if his German Shepard, Ziva, usually gives him the stink-eye for waking her so early.

She’s a service-dog, so she doesn’t stay mad at him, just a disgruntled little noise when he gently nudges her with his foot on the floor (if she’s not already on the bed with him) signalling her that it’s time to get up.

After feeding her, and fuelling himself with coffee, he heads out, Ziva on her leash —unnecessarily, but hey, it’s the law—, and a yet empty suburb of New York city to look forward to.

The first inhale of crisp fresh air, it seems fresher than during the day, always fills Bucky with calm; no matter what demons plague him at night. After he got back from his last tour, in the midst of trembling, sweating, PTSD fuelled anxiety attacks, he found his calm in the early mornings, outside. From that moment on, the first time he ran out —mid-panic— and found the world still asleep and nothing amiss, he took to just walking out of his house with Ziva, going for an early (or maybe really, _really_ late) walk.

Today (or tonight) though, he’s not alone, he notices. After the first left he takes, resuming his way towards the small park where he can let Ziva free of her duties for a short while, even in the dark that still looms over, he notices a figure. A woman, he guesses, slightly slumped but walking otherwise at a normal pace and nothing else seems to be wrong, until there’s a tug on her arm. Bucky looks down from where he walks a good few feet behind her, and sees a large dog. A Siberian Husky, large and proud, but playful. Still a puppy, Bucky guesses. The woman tugs back on the leash, gently, just a signal for attention, and the dog calms down from its excited jumping and zigzagging. Well trained, but still rambunctious. The dog barks once and wags its tail, looking up at its owner.

“Shh. It’s too early for that, sweetheart” Bucky hears the soft, velvety voice come from the woman, and he staggers in his footsteps. Whatever left-over panic he felt from a nightmare he’s long forgotten, fades away instantly at that sound.

He needs to know what she looks like. He needs to know her name. He needs to know everything.

But before he does something stupid —like go up to her and just introduce himself— he stops and looks to his left. To his left, where the sleeve of his Henley is pinned up to avoid the fabric getting stuck anywhere or flailing around. He thinks of his routine, of how he wakes before the crack of dawn, how he has to reassure himself several times a day that there’s no ambush to walk into in this quaint little suburb, and there’s no one he’s responsible for.

There’s no one he might lose under his command.

“C’mon Winter” he hears the woman (or girl, she sounds young, but not _that_ young) speak again, hushed but happy, as she tugs the dog along when it stops to sniff something and lingers too long.

Bucky keeps walking a few feet behind her, noticing she’s going in the same direction as he is. He’s surprised she hasn’t noticed him yet, but then again, serving for so long, and several tours overseas have taught him to be stealthy. He could move past her several times, and she probably wouldn’t notice if it wasn’t for Ziva. Really, the dog is great, she’s amazing, actually, and Bucky wouldn’t know what to do without her; but she’s anything but quiet. She’s a bit clumsy and sometimes trips over her own feet when skipping along Bucky’s wooden floors, but she knows exactly what to do when Bucky needs her.

Right on cue, Ziva whines and nudges Bucky’s hand, and he notices he’s slowed in his pace again. The woman seems to react and turns her head to the side, but not all the way back, and keeps walking. Bucky wonders if he’s startled her, or if she even noticed him, because she keeps walking as if nothing happened and disappears between the stone pillars that adorn the entrance of the park.

Deciding it’ll probably be best to just keep walking as if nothing happened as well, following the woman’s steps, he passes the entrance as well and sees her walk ahead of him, past the pond, towards the fenced field where dogs can run free.

Bucky watches as she unleashes ‘Winter’ as she called her companion, and the dog takes off in an impressive run.

Ziva twitches for a moment, but stays seated at Bucky’s side obediently, as Bucky stands there and stares.

There’s already a light coming over the trees that line the park, faint, but it’s there, and Bucky knows he doesn’t have much time until the peace is disturbed.

Bucky’s startled to a stop, once again, when suddenly there’s a shout. It takes a moment before the fact that it’s coming from the woman settles in.

“Winter! Stop!” She’s called out, and Bucky quickly looks over to the white/grey bouncing figure farther on the field. The dog halts immediately and looks at the woman expectantly.

“Down, Winter!” the woman calls out, lowering her volume now that she has Winter’s attention. It’s astounding how well the Husky is trained. Bucky knows those’re stubborn dogs, full of energy too. But this one, only still a puppy, Bucky can see more clearly, because its not full-grown yet. The dogs legs are still just a bit too large for the rest of its body. This one, listens to the woman as if its the only thing its ever done.

Winter wags its tail once and then smoothly lies down in the grass.

“Good girl!” the woman calls out —a girl, then— and immediately follows up with a warning “Ah-ah!” when Winter gets excited at her praising and tries to stand. The dog —looking fucking adorable— backs her ears a bit, as if she’s apologising, and stays down.

“Alright then, you troublemaker. Go on” the woman chuckles and Winter barks appreciatively and darts from her spot in the grass to run around aimlessly.

Bucky’s well aware that he’s been staring at the woman and her dog for a good few minutes and awkwardly shifts his position, feeling like a creep. He wants to go through that gate and let Ziva have her playtime, but anxiety seems to hold him back in more ways than just relieving him of sleep. He’s aware of this too, of course. He knows very well that he’s socially awkward and barely able to hold up a yes-or-no answer conversation with a stranger, but this time its different. He _wants_ to go over there and talk to her. He wants to, but holds himself back consciously. Usually he avoids these situations, doesn’t feel any desire to put himself in an uncomfortable position which could lead to a panic attack. Why would he? Even though his therapist says he needs to get out of his comfort zone, he hasn’t really found the motivation for it yet. He hasn’t been able to find the motivation for that in two years.

He’s still just standing there, his knees twitching as if his body is telling him: ‘make up your damn mind already’, but Ziva makes the decision for him. She first pulls on her leash when she steps forward, she _never_ does that. She then looks back at Bucky, mouth hanging open, tongue hanging out and a gleam in her eyes that seem to challenge him. But he could just be imagining that. Ziva tugs again and looks at the woman who’s taken to light up a cigarette while she watches the Winter run around the field merrily, sometimes giggling when the dog stumbles a bit.

Then Ziva does something she’s hasn’t done before either, something she’s not allowed to do at all, and therefore, never does because she’s trained too well. She barks. Once. Not loud; not even close enough to startle Bucky which could lead to even more trouble, but the woman turns and looks straight at him.

Oh fuck. For a few seconds, Bucky’s waiting for the world to end around him, for bombs to drop and other disasters to happen. But they don’t. They don’t happen, the woman just looks at him, then at Ziva and then back at him. And then, she smiles.

Bucky’s sure he died on the spot.

She turns back to check on Winter, who stopped as soon as she heard Ziva ‘speak up’. Both dogs are looking at each other now, and the woman turns again to follow Winter’s gaze. She smiles again and then whistles, short and commanding. Bucky had no idea a whistle could _sound_ commanding.

Winter happily trudges over to her and sits a few inches away from the woman, awaiting her order.

“I don’t bite you know, neither does Winter” the woman suddenly says, and Bucky considers himself a lucky man that he’s coherent enough to understand she’s talking to him.

He’s not lucky enough to be able to utter a single word at the sound of her gentle voice.

He’s able to see her face now that the light coming over the trees grows brighter, even if it’s only dusk. It doesn’t help much. She’s pretty. Long hair tied back in a messy pony-tail, bright eyes that seem to light up even though Bucky still hasn’t said a word.

_Man up, dammit_. He tells himself. You’ve been lost in the goddamn desert in a country you hardly knew, behind enemy lines. You should be able to _speak to a girl._

Bucky clears his throat and tries to muster up a smile, it’s small, but it feels like an accomplishment when he feels the corners of his mouth curve up only slightly.

“Sorry.. I- um. Don’t mean to interrupt” he stammers and wants to kick himself for how rough his voice sounds.

“You’re not interrupting anything,” she smiles again and blindly pets Winter over her head when the dog nudges her hand with her nose. “Field’s big enough”

“O-okay. Um, is she alright with-..” he doesn’t finish that sentence but looks at Winter and then motions to Ziva.

The woman smiles and nods, “sure, no problem”

Bucky then just decides ‘the hell with it’ and with ‘it’ he means any anxiety he’s feeling —which is less than usual— and opens the gate towards the field, and lets Ziva off her leash. The loyal service dog looks up at Bucky expectantly, wagging her tail and waiting for him to give her the okay.

“Go on, Ziva” Bucky murmurs as he pets her head once.

Ziva skips away from Bucky, directly towards Winter, who’s still waiting for her owner to give her the okay as well.

“You too, Winter, go on” the woman smiles and giggles as the two dogs first get a feel for each other, and suddenly dart off together in a run at full speed.

Bucky’s not sure what’s gotten into him today, but he’s feeling bold and dares to step up next to her. He runs out of idea’s then, though. What the hell is he supposed to say? He wants to get to know this woman, of that he’s sure; but how to go about it is a whole different notion.

_“Hi, I’m Bucky, I have PTSD because an IED blew my arm off last year when I was on my last tour in Iraq. But hey, I got an honourable discharge and I wake up in the middle of the night to go for walks with my service dog, whom I can’t live without. What’s your name?”_

No. That doesn’t really seem like the right approach. But he has to come up with something, before it becomes too awkward to say anything at all.

Unless, the woman speaks first, of course. Which, luckily, she does.

“I’m Y/N, by the way” she smiles and holds out her right hand for him to shake. (thank god. That would’ve been awkward. It always fucking is)

“Bucky” he smiles back, or at least he thinks he does, and takes her hand.

A spark shoots up his arm when he touches her skin and he’s holding her hand just a few seconds too long, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She just smiles as he lets go and feels his cheeks light up with a blush.

She’s so calm, she actually radiates tranquility as Bucky stands next to her, it sucks him right in and chases the initial pinches of anxiety that tug on his nerves away. It feels nice. It also makes sense now how Winter is so obedient. She’s balanced and assertive, everything a breed like the Siberian Husky needs to stay calm and balanced as well.

“Winter is well trained” Bucky comments and nearly gasps at himself when the words fall from his lips.

Y/N smiles, “yeah, she was meant to be a service-dog. But she was disapproved at her last inspection. Her personality is just a little too.. intense”

Bucky smiles as well, a full-on smile now, it feels good. “Ziva’s a service dog” he says and shocks himself again. He usually doesn’t just come out and say it. Even if it might be obvious, with his missing arm and all, but saying it makes him feel.. inferior.

“I could see that” Y/N chuckles.

“Really?” Bucky feels his heart sink. Is it that obvious he’s such a mess?

“Yeah. Even though she barked earlier. She has that calm about her. And she wouldn’t even make a move without your say-so” Y/N says as she watches Winter and Ziva roll around playfully.

Bucky feels the lead in his stomach disappear at her words. “Oh, right. Do-.. do you work with service-dogs?” he’s unsure about his question, Y/N might have a service-dog herself for different reasons. Even if Winter wasn’t approved as one.

“Yeah. I train them, get them ready for the real thing as puppies. Then hand them over to the volunteers at the VA” she says and looks back at Bucky. “Winter was one of my ‘students’” she chuckles at the word, “but I expected her to be too wild. I couldn’t just let her go, so I kept her when the inspection fell through”

Bucky nods, from the moment he met Ziva, there was a click. He couldn’t imagine letting go of her.

“Must be hard to raise puppies and then just hand them over” he says as he watches how Ziva’s daring Winter to come at her by sticking her behind up in the air and keeping her head low to the ground, all the while her tail’s wagging behind her. She jumps out of the way and takes off in another run just as Winter takes a dive at her. It’s safe to say they’re getting along well.

“Yeah..” Y/N sighs but smiles directly after. “In this line of work you learn to not get attached, I guess. It takes a while though. The first one I did was rough. Second one too. It got easier after that. But I still check in on them every now and then. Visit the veterans they’re with and see how they’re doing”

Bucky smiles and can’t help but wish Y/N had trained Ziva as well. She’d be coming over, to check on Ziva of course, but the way she makes it sound is like she’s also checking on the vets. Bucky doesn’t have that. Even though he could go over to the VA, he just hasn’t found the motivation for that in the last two years.

“What about you?” Y/N asks softly but doesn’t elaborate. But Bucky knows very well what she’s asking. He’s glad she doesn’t come out and say it though. She knows how to talk to him, or so it seems.

“I-.. um, well; I was honourably discharged two years ago. Uh, IED..” he turns and shows the obvious missing part of him and the pinned-up sleeve.

Y/N nods but doesn’t show any sign of pity. That’s nice. “How long have you had Ziva?”

Bucky thinks back to the first day he met Ziva automatically. He came into the facility with his therapist at the time, who thought it was a good idea to sign Bucky up for the programme. The only right thing that man did, if Bucky was honest. The rest of the therapy was a disaster. However, the moment Bucky laid eyes on Ziva, and vice versa, they were inseparable. Bucky ignored everything and everyone and just walked up to the dog and crouched down. Ziva, being the good service-dog she is, waited for him to make the first move and then just showered him with affection when she got a whiff of him. He’d only been back in society for half a year, out of surgery for eight months, and he was lonely. Sure, he had friends, lots of them, but they didn’t understand what he was going through. Even though they were —and still _are_ — patient with him and really tried to see how frightening for Bucky it could be to even hear a car door slam shut. But Ziva seemed to know, somehow. Ziva always knows exactly what Bucky needs and at the right time too.

“I’ve had her for a year and a half now” he smiles when he sees Winter finally get the jump on Ziva, but she easily escapes again and they’re back to running around. “She’s been real good to me”

He looks back at Y/N, her features becoming more and more visible in the brighter growing morning light. Bucky has no idea how long he’s been here with her, but he doesn’t care; because this beautiful woman smiles at him like she’s genuinely happy for him. As if he’s not missing an arm due to an IED, as if he didn’t wake up with a gasp and a scream while Ziva was licking his face to pull him out of another feverish nightmare.

It feels normal. It feels nice.

“How long have you had Winter?” Bucky asks then, feeling more and more comfortable to open up and to try to get her to open up in turn.

“She’s been with me for two years. Though, that’s counting the half year it took to train her. I did try to keep my distance from her at first, but it didn’t really work as well as it did with the other dogs I trained. She really drew me in” Y/N smiles as she watches Winter and Ziva, still fooling around but quieter now. “I have to admit, I was relieved when she ‘failed’ the inspection. I already knew I wanted to keep her”

Bucky can’t help but smile at that. It’s a love story of sorts. Like himself and Ziva. Neither of them chose the dog, it wasn’t a line-up and see which one is cutest or prettiest; it was meant to be.

“We both got lucky” Bucky murmurs as Ziva storms past with Winter on her heels, back to rough housing and fooling around at full speed.

Some more conversation happens, Winter and Ziva quiet down some more and go to explore their surroundings, sometimes together, sometimes going their own direction whenever they pick up a different scent. Bucky is so entranced by the calm around Y/N that he doesn’t even notice the park getting busier and the traffic picking up, ringing in the start of the day for the rest of the world. There’s other dogs and people around now, but they leave Winter and Ziva alone, they’re too busy with each other and minding their owners as they go.

But then, there’s the loud screech of tires and a loud bang. It comes from the main road just outside the park, and it grabs the undivided attention of all dog-owners and joggers and every one else alike in the park.

Except for Bucky.

Bucky feels all colour drain from his face and all calm instantly leaves him and replaces with a tidal wave of fear and panic. Worry etches over him; is his team okay? Are his men hurt? Is he himself hurt? Where’d the attack come from? Are they still in danger?

He’s lost his surroundings, sense of time. He’s back in the desert, on a dirt road, a simple supply-run gone wrong. Everything around him is too bright, too loud and too quiet at the same time. He feels his heart hammering against his chest, sweat beading on his forehead, his breathing is too fast. He’s going to pass out, he’s sure of it. He can’t feel his arm. His left arm, it feels weird, it’s not supposed to feel like this. It doesn’t hurt, it feels numb.

“Bucky, focus on me” he hears a gentle voice call out to him. “Bucky, c’mon, Ziva’s here. I’m here, you’re here. You’re okay. It’s okay”

He’s screaming, he hadn’t noticed he’d been screaming. Neither did he notice that his right hand is covering his left shoulder.

With all the strength he has in him, Bucky opens his eyes, looks straight into the pretty brown eyes of his trusted service dog. Ziva’s right there, and puts her paw on his knee. He’s on his knees in the grass, in the park just around his block, where he’s been living for two years. He’s home.

He’s out of breath, he rattles his head and notices some one crouching down next to him.

“Hey, breathe, you’re okay” Y/N tells him gently, but doesn’t do anything else. She doesn’t touch him, doesn’t push him to get back to himself.

It’s.. nice. Sort of. As far as coming down from a panic attack can be nice.

“Bucky, I need you to focus on me. Can you look at me?” Y/N asks, firm but still kind.

He closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them and looks at Y/N.

“Good, that’s good. Take a deep breath” she continues and smiles at him encouragingly.

He does, and does it again when she tells him to. He knows what she’s doing, he’s focusing on her voice, on his breathing, and on Ziva’s gentle paw on his knee.

When he’s calmed down, Y/N is on her knees next to him, Winter obediently sitting next to her, looking at Bucky as if she were as concerned for him as Y/N is.

Then Ziva steps up and begins licking his face. Bucky can’t help but smile and eventually snort in laughter when she _really_ gets into it and nearly topples him over with her clumsy approach.

“Okay, okay, girl. I’m here, I’m with you” Bucky murmurs as he wraps his arm around her neck.

“You with me, too, Bucky?” Y/N asks with a small smile.

“Yeah” he sighs, feeling embarrassment flood him now. There’s no one else paying attention to them, they’re all enjoying the show of the two people yelling at each other at the main road. It seems no one is hurt, but one car’s front is pretty much done for when the other’s back is pretty dented. “m’Sorry. I-..” he sighs again and really just wants to get out of there, wallow in his own sorrow, he blew it before he even made it with this girl. Broke down screaming like a child at the first loud noise.

“No, no, Bucky; don’t. Please don’t apologise” Y/N reaches out, shows Bucky her hand before she gently brings it down on his arm. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You know that”

“Do I?” he scoffs, but gives her a small smile.

“Yes. You do. Because you know this is hard. You know you’ve left a part of yourself over there, and you know you’re doing what you can to get back” she says, that stern tone back to her voice; but still, she sounds so sweet, so encouraging. Like her smile. She never stops smiling.

“I- well.. thank you” Bucky feels overwhelmed, in a good way. No one’s ever said something like that to him, not even his therapist. No one’s had such insight as to what he’s feeling.

It’s refreshing. Is it possible to fall in love with some one within an hour (or two)? But still, he feels shame.

“I, um.. I think I’ll just-..” he gets up to his feet and puts Ziva back on her leash.

“Bucky” Y/N grabs his wrist, gently, he could easily just pull away if he so chooses.

He doesn’t.

“Do you want to grab some coffee?”

One look in those bright eyes is all it takes.

“Yes” he breathes, he’s not sure if it’s relief he’s feeling or if he’s still on an adrenalin high, and he doesn’t care. “Yes, I’d like that”

* * *

“So, you’re new around here?” Bucky smiles, sitting across from Y/N in a quaint coffee shop only a block from the park, Winter and Ziva laying underneath the table, tuckered out from their playing.

“Yeah, only moved here a week ago. I like it so far” she says as she puts her cup down, and gives Bucky that beautiful smile he feels his heart stutter over every time.

“And what’s your excuse for being out and about at four in the morning?” Bucky’s bold enough to ask, and feels his stomach flip pleasantly when he hears her giggle.

“Well, people call me crazy for it, but I like the quiet. There’s no other time of day, or night, that it’s so calm out on the street. That’s also one of the reasons I moved out of the city”

Bucky’s in love. He’s hopelessly in love and there’s nothing he can do about it. And there’s nothing to be done about the words tumbling out of his mouth next either.

“Will you go to dinner with me?”

Y/N raises her eyebrows and giggles again, “you don’t fool around, do you?” she teases and Bucky’s cheeks go red. “I’d love to, Bucky” she adds.

He’s on top of the fucking world.

* * *

He’s sure he’s messed up, somehow. It seemed like she was having a good time, Bucky himself was having a good time. But now that he’s awake, only ten hours after he’s dropped her off at her doorstep, he knows he messed up and he’ll never see or speak to her again.

He’d tried so hard; dressed up, showered (twice, for some reason), pulled his hair back and actually put some product in it for once so it didn’t look like a mop sitting on his head. Maybe he was trying too hard. Maybe she wasn’t looking for anything more than just a friend. Or, that’s not really what he could call it just yet, is it? They’d only met the week before. Sure, they shared a few more nightly walks with Ziva and Winter, and gotten to know each other a little better in the silence of that hour; but is that a reason to call some one a friend?

It’s been so long since Bucky made new friends. He thought he didn’t need any more, didn’t want any either. He’s got Steve, Natasha, Sam; they’re there for him. Trying to understand what he’s going through, trying to help him ‘get out there’ when he really doesn’t want to. And now he’s gone out there, because he _did_ want to this time, and he’s blown it.

He’s not sure how, but he did.

It’s three thirty in the morning and Bucky is staring at the ceiling. He hasn’t had a nightmare, or woke up trembling; but now he’s scared. He’s woken up because of his internal clock, he wonders if he could ever sleep late again. He’s suddenly got a desire for that. Sleeping late, not worrying about pain in an arm that he’s lost —he gets that sometimes, phantom limb is what they call it; it’s great. No painkillers to be taken against pain that isn’t really there— maybe even wake up next to some one, roll over and feel a warm body next to him. It occurs to him that it’s been over four years that he’s been.. well, intimate with some one. His last girlfriend decided to break up with him while he was overseas. He didn’t really blame her —eventually, that is. He got pretty pissed when she told him— being away for some one so long, it sucks. And she had her needs —and a new boyfriend already, chick sure worked fast— so he eventually understood. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that the last time he had sex was with a lying, cheating bitch, four years ago. And now that he thinks about it, the last time he even touched himself was.. overseas. The night before his last mission. It’s incredibly uncomfortable, masturbating in a room full of men, trying to keep still and just hoping that no one notices. Of course, it happens all the time, they all do it. But it’s still awkward.

Now though; now he has privacy, his own home, his own bed in his own room. No one to catch him while he’s taking care of himself. For a moment he finds it strange he hasn’t really thought about this before now. Not until he met Y/N. He hasn’t even really looked at a woman like that since he got back.

That’s just not right.

As if on cue, he’s hard as rock. Several thoughts come to mind:

One: Y/N is the prettiest and sweetest girl he’s ever met (and he blew it)

Two: He’s horny as hell, and he has to do something, right now, or he’ll explode

Three: He wants her, even though he blew it, he might be able to fix it, _after_ he fixes this

Four, as he wraps his hand around himself: this feels weird, having only one hand and using it for this

But it feels good, so, so good. He forgot how good it can feel, how good it can be to have something wrapped around him like this, to squeeze and release, stroke leisurely and rub his thumb over the head. His mind wanders off to Y/N, he imagines how it would feel if she would be the one doing this. Or maybe even wrap her lips around him instead of her hand.

Oh, that does it. That gets him going.

“Fuck” he groans and strokes faster, twisting his wrist when he reaches the head and then pulls down again. “Fuck, oh, god..”

It doesn’t last long. That’s to be expected, of course, after such a long time. He comes, and comes hard with Y/N’s name on his lips, coating his hand and stomach in his own come.

It feels so damn good.

Clean-up is a little challenging with only one arm, and his hand covered in himself, but he manages to snag a t-shirt that’s due for laundry anyway, and get almost nothing on his sheets.

They’re due for laundry anyway too.

He lays on his back for another few minutes, still staring up at the ceiling. He feels calmer now, maybe he _will_ be able to fix whatever he screwed up last night.

With that thought he got up and began his normal routine, stepping outside at his usual time with Ziva by his side, towards the park where he’d been meeting Y/N every day (night) since they met.

Usually he’d bump into her on the way there, when he rounded his block and took the first left, she’s not there.

Okay, don’t worry. She might already be there.

But when he gets to the park, to the field, she’s not there either.

With a sigh Bucky crouches down to Ziva’s hight and ruffles the fur on her head. “Guess I really did blow it, huh girl?” he mumbles and unclasps her leash. “Go on, Ziva”

Ziva doesn’t move. Not even when Bucky stands up and looks around, just a little spark of hope left for Y/N to still come. But she’s nowhere in sight. Not even at the park entrance.

There’s a familiar emptiness that takes to Bucky’s chest. It’s lonely and painful and he kind of wants to cry, but no tears come. No relief.

Ziva nudges and licks his hand, brings him back to earth as he looks down at her. “What is it, girl? Go on and play”

She nudges his hand again, nuzzling her nose into it and scoots closer. She wont leave him.

Bucky crouches down again and sits on his knees. “You’re such a good girl, Ziva” he murmurs and wants to smile. She wont leave him while he’s upset like this. It feels nice to know that she knows how he’s feeling, without him having to talk to some one about it. He gets what he needs, without asking for it. She does overdo it a little, she moves on from his hand to his face and showers him with affection by licking at him and putting her paws on his shoulders.

“Okay- Ziva-.. geez, okay, that’s enough!” Bucky’s snickering and trying to push her away, but she’s persistent. She’s pushing him backwards until he topples over to his back and she just keeps licking her face and wagging her tail.

“Well, I see you’re getting comfortable”

That voice; that silky, smooth sound. She’s here. She came..

Ziva jumps up and goes to sit next to Bucky as he leans up on his elbow. “Oh yeah, sure, now she backs off” he grumbles. “Seriously Ziva, you’re not so innocent”

Y/N giggles and unleashes Winter, “Go on, sweetheart. Go nuts”

Ziva watches as Winter darts out to the field and then looks at Bucky. All he has to do is motion his chin towards the other dog, and she’s off. Off playing and rough housing with her new friend.

“Oh, no, don’t get up” Y/N jokes and sits down in the grass next to him.

“I thought you weren’t gonna show” Bucky mumbles and doesn’t dare to look at her.

“What? Why?” Y/N pokes his side to get his attention when Bucky doesn’t answer. He looks up at her and meets with that beautiful smile he’s come to know and adore. “Why’d you think I wasn’t gonna show, Bucky?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Because I blew it, last night. I know I did. And I-.. was scared that you didn’t want to see me again”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Bucky dares to look at her again after a few minutes. Her smile is gone, and it’s replaced with confusion. Her eyebrows are pulled together and she rattles her head.

“Blew.. what, exactly?” she suddenly asks. “I had a great time last night, Bucky. You’re-.. you’re great company”

That’s something that takes a minute to process. He didn’t blow it? He couldn’t remember what he did wrong, but it turns out, nothing went wrong at all? She had a great time, and she said he’s great company..

“I’d like to go out with you again, if that’s okay with you?” she then asks, that smile returning, but this time it’s a bit shy.

Bucky knows he’s grinning like an idiot as soon as the words leave her mouth. “I-.. yeah. That’s very okay with me. I’d like that a lot”

Her smile grows then and she averts her eyes to the grass she’s plucking on.

“I was overthinking.. wasn’t I?” Bucky mumbles and catches her gaze.

“Yeah. You were. But it’s okay, right?” she says and gently touches his hand where it’s hovering over the grass as he’s still leaning on his elbow.

Bucky bites his lip and suddenly thinks about earlier, his hand on himself and a surge of pleasure shoots through him. He’s able to push the thought aside, and as he does, his fingers close around Y/N’s and hold her hand where it is.

Her cheeks turn pink, and she bends her head forward, making her hair fall in front of her face. Bucky almost moves to brush it away from her eyes and behind her ear, but is rudely reminded of his.. disability.

It makes him sit up, though; and do something a lot bolder than he’d ever thought he’d do. As he lets go of her hand, he moves his to her cheek and gently pulls her head up to face him. For a moment he searches her eyes, the rest of her features and then leans in. His lips brush hers, barely a touch, but definitely a touch, before she pushes forward and presses her mouth to his. Something Bucky desperately wanted to do last night, as he dropped her off by her doorstep, but just didn’t have the balls to do then. Now, he’s not the one that actually kissed her, but he’s the one that moved in for it. And this is even better. She’s the one that actually _went_ for it.

She tastes of coffee, mint, and cigarettes. It’s divine, he wants more, so he asks for it. He gently licks his tongue over her lower lip, slowly, sensually, like he suddenly remembers doing to other girls before he got shipped out. He remembers it was fun, making out, laying on his bed in his parents’ house, keeping it down with the door shut, seeing how far he could go with one girl or another. This is different though, he’s an adult and so is Y/N; he’s got experience, good and bad.

Now, he’s focussed on Y/N and whatever she’s comfortable with. Whatever she wants, he’ll give her. Whatever he can.

His heart skips a beat when she parts her lips and allows him to explore her further, the way their tongues beat and caress together, her hand at the crook of his neck, his carding through her hair; it’s perfect. It’s been so long since he’s just made out with some one, it sounds childish to call it ‘making out’, but that’s what it is. It turns heated and heavier, Bucky pushes closer to her and Y/N eagerly lets him in.

It’s still too early for anyone else to be in the park, but Bucky notices they do have an audience. He slowly pulls away and eyes the two pairs of eyes settled on them, clearing his throat awkwardly. Y/N follows his gesture and snorts, “Way to respect some one’s privacy, ladies”

Bucky scoffs and pulls her in for another kiss; hums when their lips meet and pulls away just an inch. “You’re beautiful” he whispers.

Y/N blushes and giggles. Then makes Bucky laugh by saying: “they’re still watching us”

He turns to Winter and Ziva, who’re indeed still sitting side by side, about half a feet away, tongues hanging out and panting due to their running around.

“Well, go on. Go play, or somethin’, get outta here” he tries to shoo them away, but they wont budge.

“Right” Y/N giggles and gets up, much to Bucky’s disappointment. “C’mon. I’m hungry” she holds out her hand for him. He smiles and lets her help him off the ground, pretends to fall forward, childishly and plants another kiss on Y/N’s lips.

She lets out a surprised noise but instantly relaxes in the kiss and places her hands on his chest.

“How about I cook you breakfast?” he murmurs and keeps her close with his arm around her waist.

“You cook?” she cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “I don’t believe that”

“I do, actually. I make some mean omelettes. I can do pancakes too” he smiles, smug and chuckles when she narrows her eyes at him.

“Aren’t you proud of yourself” she jokes and stands on her toes to kiss him again.

* * *

Breakfast turns out to be quite different than they’d imagined. After stumbling into Bucky’s front door, he could hardly contain himself anymore. The short walk home had been full of teasing and lingering looks, pausing to steal more kisses, short and sweet, but also long-lasting and sensual. By the time Winter and Ziva trudged inside and he closed his front door, looks were exchanged and before either of them knew it, Bucky had Y/N pressed up to the wall, sharing fevered kisses, breathing heavily, delirious with want.

One thing he knows for sure. One hand is not enough to explore this beautiful body trapped between him and his hallway wall. It’s frustrating. So he does something different. He abandons her lips, much to her dismay, but makes up for it by dragging his mouth along her jaw and down her neck to her collarbone.

“Bucky..” she breathes his name like a prayer, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s heard coming from her mouth yet.

“Mmh, Y/N.. tell me.. if I’m moving to fast” he groans out, gritting his teeth, because he doesn’t want to scare her off. She’s too sweet, too good for him to let her slip through his fingers.

“You’re not..” she moans when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on her neck. “You’re not, Bucky. God..”

“I want you” he groans, pushing his body closer to hers, lining every inch of him up with her. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you, Y/N. It’s driving me crazy” he’s babbling, he knows. But he feels it now. He feels it, and he knows it’s true. Only this morning, he reminded himself of how good it can be to be free enough to even masturbate in private. Now it’s like the dam has broken and all desire he’s been subconsciously pushing down is coming to the surface. And now he has that warm body against his, not just a warm body, it’s Y/N’s. The woman he’s only met a week ago, but already feels like he’s fallen in love with.

The way she handles him, doesn’t back away or rolls her eyes when his insecurities surface; doesn’t run for the hills when he’s paranoid and scared, but stays with him and knows how to calm him down and when to leave him alone and not mention any of it when he’s trying to resurface himself.

It’s as if she already knows him. And it feels good to not have to explain anything and to still be treated the way he needs.

And _God_ , does it feel good now to have her pressed up against him, her one arm around his waist, the other around his neck as she —subconsciously, maybe— grinds her hips against his.

“Oh, _shit_. Bucky..” Y/N chuckles, and gasps when he moves his lips to the other side of her neck, and uses his hand to carefully —cheekily— graze her breast. “I want you too. _God_ , I want you”

Bucky pulls back, eyes wide and lips parted. For a moment, all he can do is stare. Her bright eyes are nearly swallowed whole by her fully blown pupils, her lips are swollen and red from the feverish kissing and on her neck is a nice purple mark he only just left there. He didn’t know he was being so rough.

And she’s just admitted to wanting him.

“Oh _fuck_ ” he growls and attacks her lips again, earning a high-pitched moan from her as she wraps her leg around his hip.

It gives him a really good angle to thrust his hips into hers, and to make her feel what she’s done to him. He’s rock hard, for the second time today, and he’s grinding into her, drinking in all the cute little sounds she makes.

“Wait, wait” she suddenly breathes, chest heaving , eyes half lidded. But he stops. Instantly. And pulls back.

“What is it?” the sound of his voice scares him, it’s so rough and low; but Y/N just bites her lip, smothering a moan bubbling up from her throat.

“Maybe..” she’s panting and rattles her head. “Maybe we should take it a little slower. We’ve only just met a week ago”

Bucky chuckles and leans his forehead against hers. She’s right. She’s absolutely right. Just because he’s ready to have sex again, doesn’t mean Y/N should be ready to do it with him.

“I think, you might be right” he whispers, stealing a chaste kiss from her lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-..”

She cuts him off and shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. I want to. I really, really do. But it’s too soon..”

He nods and lets out a soft laugh, “And we’ve only had our first date yesterday”

She laughs as well and wraps both arms around his neck. “A very enjoyable date, might I add”

Bucky hums and kisses her again, and again, and again. “Yeah. It was”

It’s quiet for a while, nice and still, though outside the world is coming to life.

“You still hungry?” Bucky asks as he pulls away, but doesn’t get far because Y/N wont let go of his neck.

She nods and then bites her lip, “Hungry in several ways, but yes. I could eat”

Bucky laughs and throws his head back. “ _Please_ , don’t say that. That’s _so_ unfair”

Y/N giggles, “I’m sorry”

“Yeah, yeah. You sound real sorry” Bucky smirks and kisses her.

It takes another fifteen minutes before they finally break apart and head for the kitchen. Bucky’s still holding on to her though, holding her hand until he has no choice but to let it go to start cooking. He declines her offer to help and tells her to park her ass on a chair. She ignores that and sits up on the kitchen counter.

He’s gotten real good at cooking with only one arm, he had no choice, being on his own after rehab. It’s a lot more fussing, but he manages just fine.

Y/N is impressed, makes his cheeks flush red with her compliments, which she enjoys even more and keeps going.

“Alright, alright. Enough of that. Here, eat” he cuts off her praising and hands her a plate with pancakes as promised.

They’re just as good as he promised too.

“d’You want more?” Bucky asks as he takes Y/N’s empty plate away.

“Not right now, no” he smiles.

“Right now?” he cocks an eyebrow as he turns to lean against the kitchen counter.

“I wouldn’t mind more tomorrow” she grins, effectively melting Bucky’s insides completely.

He chuckles, “I’ll give you pancakes every day if you want them, sweetheart. Just say the word”

“Every day?” she raises her eyebrows and gets up from her seat. “You’re a keeper, huh?”

“If you’ll have me” Bucky smiles and reaches his arm out to her, inviting her in. She steps into his one-armed embrace easily and rests her head against his chest.

“I think I will. And I’ll have a nap, too”

As the morning sun peeks through the blinds and the world has come to life outside, Bucky enjoys having Y/N close to him, his arm wrapped around her as her head rests on his chest, in his bed. He’s suddenly very tired, but it feels nice.

It feels good. He feels good.

He hasn’t felt that in a long time, and he intends to enjoy it.


End file.
